In My Arms
by belovedbeauty
Summary: "It took everything for Emma not to cry out his name, not to give in the sudden overwhelming sadness. Once her baby was born, she would be completely and utterly alone." /Takes place in the past. Emma O/S.


_**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters, they belong solely to Adam and Eddy, and the team of Once Upon A Time. This came to me and I couldn't not write it._

* * *

There was a flutter, and sharp pain. Everything ceased when she felt the wetness between her legs, staring in shock at her large belly as she felt it drip down her blue-gray trousers and pool on the floor.

Alone in her cell, and suddenly terrified, Emma hadn't been able to open her mouth and call for a guard. It had been a leap of faith that the strawberry blond guard walked by and looked in—eyes widening as Emma stood, unmoving, staring at her large belly.

There was shouting, and it broke her of her spell, enticing her enough to lift her shaking hands and gently place them on the one thing that had kept her connected. It was a reminder of her past, a reminder of the love she thought she had shared with...

Shaking her head of those thoughts, she looked up wide eyed as two guards quickly opened her cell and moved towards her. They always treated the inmates with caution—never knowing if a tooth brush had been made into a shank, or if an inmate was in a foul mood.

But Emma was in the ward that seemed full of the gentle guards, ones that still seemed untouched by the viciousness of what lay inside.

"Hey, it's okay," the strawberry blonde urged, green eyes gentle, face open. She reached for Emma, and her hands folded around her belly protectively.

"We're gonna take you down to the delivery ward, okay?"

Still in a state of shock, Emma nodded hesitantly, allowing the guard to gently tug at her elbow and move her along. It wasn't long before the contractions started—miles apart at first, and then coming and going within a few minutes. They had her situated in a bed, and hooked up to a million machines. Guards stood at the doors, watching the women with disinterested gazes.

Suddenly, like a punch to the stomach, Emma felt so very alone.

Looking around, she took in the machines, listening as they registered her and her baby's heartbeat. Both strong in tone, the tempo's nearly identical.

She'd grind her teeth and force her jaw shut as the contractions increased in pain, only half listening as the doctor breezed in and out—checking her vitals, feeling how dilated she was.

It took everything for Emma not to cry out his name, not to give in the sudden overwhelming sadness.

Once her baby was born, she would be completely and utterly alone.

* * *

It took hours before the doctor deemed her ready for an epidural. And the time seemed to slow, creeping along at half speed as the drug dulled the pain. Emma was pouring sweat, and exhausted, half staring at the wall in front of her and dozing in and out.

She was stroking her belly, attempting to stay calm as the time passed. She refused to think about anything from her past, nor would she allow herself to cry about the future. She knew the moment the pregnancy test came back positive that this baby wasn't really hers.

She had no family to take care of it until she was released. But nine months with a human being growing inside you—kicking and stretching, fluttering inside your belly as you slept, waking you with sudden cravings, and amazing feelings. It was hard not to get attached to it.

It was hers, but it wasn't. It would have her genes, but it wouldn't be her child. Knowing that, knowing that no matter what, she couldn't give it the life it deserved, made it that much harder to admit that as much as she loved him or her—it wasn't hers.

* * *

"Okay, Emma, it's time. I'm going to need you to take a deep breath and push, okay?"

With a cry of pain, Emma nodded, trying in vain to focus past the pain. This was it, this was her time to be the best mother she could for her baby. To bring it into the world safely. She would do everything she had to, to make sure this baby was delivered without any difficulties.

Drawing in a large breath, Emma pushed against the pressure, feeling nothing give and yet a tugging sensation she wasn't comfortable with. Shutting her eyes tight, she listened to the doctor's instructions—breathing and pushing when told, and collapsing back into her pillows from exhaustion when she was told to wait.

It felt like hours before she heard it—a wail that broke through everything, causing tears to flood her eyes as she watched the nurses carry the baby away from her. Her body was exhausted, but her mind was spinning.

That was her baby. She had just given birth to her first child—inside cold concrete walls, with faces that never changed and stories that all blended together.

With a start, her eyes snapped to a sweet woman with curly brown hair as she walked carefully towards Emma, cuddling a blanket of sky blue.

"Here he is," the nurse cooed, gently placing the baby in Emma's arms, watching with sad eyes as Emma stared down at him in awe.

"It's... it's a boy?" She whispered, gently moving the blanket away from her son's face and smiling down at him. She could feel everything she had pushed away claw at her, climbing to the surface.

With a look of pleading, Emma asked if she could have a moment alone with him. The guards stayed by the doors as the medical team filtered out, leaving Emma and her baby boy alone.

Staring down at him, trying but failing not to memorize his face, Emma leaned in and kissed the top of his bald head. Her eyes leaked tears, her hands shaking.

"I love you," she whimpered, biting her lip to keep it from shaking as her body quaked with sobs. "I'm sorry I can't be your mom. I'm so sorry you were," releasing a long breath, she used her gown to wipe the tears from her cheek, smiling as her son opened his eyes—revealing blue depths.

"I love you. It's all I can say. And I hope," a tear landed on his cheek, and she quickly moved to wipe it away. His eyes were glued on her face, his body still in her arms.

As the sobs became harder to control, Emma leaned down once more and kissed his cheek, words failing her as she whispered over and over that she loved him. Knowing this was it, this was the few moments she had with him before he was gone forever.

Knowing he wouldn't remember her, she allowed herself to memorize his face. Committing this moment to her memory—his soft skin, and blue eyes. His strong cry as he came into the world. She committed it all—even the way her body continued to shake with sobs, leaving her voice cracking and her words broken.

And when they took him away, leaving her completely alone, her belly empty, and her heart broken—Emma remembered that she loved him. And that because she loved him, she had to let him go.

Still, she cried herself to sleep that night.


End file.
